


Lunch and Lilacs

by starprise_entership



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Current Day AU, Florist AU, M/M, jadzia and julian really deserved a lovely friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-26
Updated: 2018-06-26
Packaged: 2019-05-29 00:11:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15060833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starprise_entership/pseuds/starprise_entership
Summary: It seems that Julian and Garak will need a little push from a mutual friend to get them together.





	Lunch and Lilacs

The diner is hardly full when the pair sit down for a meal. The greasy smell of eggs wafts through the air, as if eager to get into every nook and cranny. Muffled beats pump in the background, overpowered by the loud sizzling of the grill and the clicking, clacking sounds of cutlery hitting against ceramic plates.

Jadzia orders their usual order of scrambled eggs and bacon, and then waves the waiter off.

”So you think I should just play coy with Garak?” says Julian, once he has Jadzia’s attention.

Jadzia gives a small nod. “You could very convincingly pull it off, with your large, doeish eyes and that perpetual mesmerised expression of yours. Plus, from what I see of it, you’re probably not going to be calm enough to pull off suave and confident. So I‘m thinking that we could go for something in your more...natural state.”

Julian wrings his hands.

“Well, there it is again.”

“Oh.” Julian folds his hands and brings them off the table and into his lap.

“You’re doing great.” Jadzia remarks, confidently. “But really, what do you want out of Garak? Just another fling? Because if that’s what you’re intending, I can’t believe that you– _impetuous, brash you_ –hasn’t gone ahead and seduced him already.”

Julian gives a low sigh, his eyes wandering over the tabletop. “I don’t think I’m thinking about just having a physical relationship with him. Then again, I don’t suppose Garak and I would the sort to propose a long term dating relationship from the start, though I’m sure I could remain in one if I was invested enough. Maybe I’ll just ask him out on a date, a _proper_ one, not just our regular Wednesday lunches here.”

“And you’ll see what happens from there.” Jadzia nods. “Interesting.”

“But it’s just–“Julian’s voice raises, evidently frustrated, “that I can’t be absolutely sure that Garak _is_ interested in me in the way I’m interested in him.”

“He and you have been on rather good terms for the past two years,” Jadzia observes. “I don’t know, you didn’t really tell me exactly everything that was going on?”

“I can’t tell if he’s just a very touchy friend or if…” Julian’s voice trails off, and he gives a wistful sigh as he props his chin up with his hand. “I can never tell what he’s thinking.”

“Touchy.” Jadzia’s eyes widen. “Now, you’ve never told me about that.”

“Oh, I–er, didn’t feel that that was very relevant to you when it happened.”

“Tell me more.”

“I still remember the way he bid me goodbye the other day,” recalls Julian, staring into blank space. “I think I can still picture it. He came over to my side of the table and put his hands on my shoulders.”

“And you liked it.” Jadzia cuts in, almost sniggering. “You liked the feel of his hands on your shoulders.”

“Well, it made me blush after that, though I’m not sure he saw my expression right after.” Julian shrugs.

“There are other occasions, yes, when his ankle brushes mine under the table, intentionally or not. I think he likes it when I jump against the contact but he lingers just a bit longer before he pulls away.” He smiles, lazily, and his fingers draw aimless circles across the checkered tablecloth. “I wish I could tell him that he needn’t pull away from me.”

“Sounds like you’re certainly infatuated with him,” teases Jadzia, her eyebrow quirked. Her signature mischievous grin spreads across her face. “But are you sure you want something more?”

“More than just a physical relationship?” Julian clarifies. “Of course. He’s been good company and I’d just want him around more often. I’m just not sure I’m reading his signals correctly.”

“Sounds like he’s pretty interested in you, honestly.” Jadzia concludes.

“There was another thing. I was at his shop the other day–“

“–you were at his shop?” Jadzia interrupts. “Sorry.”

Julian waves it off nonchalantly. “Last week. Where do you think we got the fresh lilacs from? His recommendation.”

“Anyway, I found a four leaf clover in my coat pocket afterwards. Placed by Garak himself. And I knew it had to be Garak because he was the only other person who handled my coat when he put it on the rack for me. I went searching all over the internet to figure out _what on earth_ it could mean, and there was this one website that explained that putting a four-leaf clover in a loved one’s pocket would make you _irresistible_ to them. Of course, I could just be cherry-picking information.” He gives a deflated sigh. “I do wish I could get a more concrete sign, though.”

“Then why don’t you just tell him? I’m sure at that point he’ll feel obligated to reveal whether the feeling’s mutual or not.” Jadzia inquires. “I’m sure this isn’t the first time you’ve had feelings for someone.” Her expression freezes, and she sits forward, lowering her voice. “Would it be the first time you’re having feelings for a man? It’s daunting, I know, I’ve been there before– _but I mean, not with men but with–“_

“Oh, no. I’ve been interested in men before, but it’s just–“ Julian starts, wincing. “–that I’ve been turned down by every man that I’ve revealed my feelings to so far. It just came down to a little thing called _orientation incompatibility.”_

“Bummer.” Jadzia gives a sharp exhale. “At least you tried.”

“There’s a possibility that he could turn out to be–you know, the conservative sort.” His eyes dart around the diner. “And what if I happen to bring it up and I’m too loud about it, and somebody who doesn’t sit right with it chases me out? I know we do live in a very diverse area, but certainly not everybody’s as liberal as us.”

“Don’t do anything you wouldn’t feel safe doing.” Jadzia advises, her tone more serious. “I, like many other people, would like to see you in one piece at the end of next Wednesday.”

“And in one piece I’ll be.” assures Julian, being more at ease as he drops his shoulders back and clasps his hands. “I mean, what could possibly go wrong?”

* * *

 

_Well, everything that can go wrong is probably going to go wrong._

Garak hasn’t even arrived yet.

Julian sits across from the empty booth, picking at his mashed potatoes, hoping that if he stares at his food for just a bit longer his appetite will return. Taking a sip of his coffee, his eyes dart over to his phone for the tenth time in five minutes.

_Text back, Garak. Text back so I don’t think about the possibility that you might’ve been run over by a bus on your way here. Text back so I don’t think about the possibility that you’ve slipped in the bathtub this morning and hit your head and died just right there._

_Get a grip, Julian. Garak’s fine._

_But what if the worst happens!_

_He’s probably fine. Optimism, remember?_

_Right. And if things still do go wrong, I can call Jadzia for backup any time._

The door swings open and Julian lets out the biggest sigh of relief he’s had ever.

“I do apologise for my lateness,” Garak mentions, as he sheepishly slides into the booth opposite Julian. “I was held up by a rather demanding customer today. You see, her wedding’s next week and she had the _gall_ to come in today. Her previous florist cancelled on her.”

“You’re going to have to get a lot of work in.” realises Julian. “I’m sorry. You could’ve cancelled lunch today if you were too busy.”

“Cancel? Oh, no, I doubt I’d ever do such a thing. I would reschedule, if necessary.” Garak pauses, peering at Julian’s plate. “Aren’t you going to finish up your mashed potatoes?”

“I, uh, haven’t the appetite today.” Julian explains, setting the plate aside. “I’ve had a lot to think about.”

“Like your graduation last weekend?” Garak brings up. “I’d have to congratulate you, Julian– or should I say _Doctor Bashir?”_

“Thanks.” Julian accepts the complement. “I’m a professional now, I suppose.”

He watches Garak eye his potatoes.

“You could have the rest, if you’d like.” offers Julian, nudging the plate in Garak’s direction. “I’m full.”

“I’ve already eaten.” Garak politely declines. “Miss Leeta offered me a whole loaf of bread from her bakery this morning and she wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

“Oh.” Julian nods. “Then what did you come to the diner for?”

“Well, I figured you’d be disappointed if I had to reschedule our lunch.”

“I read another two chapters of _The Never Ending Sacrifice_ last night.” Julian mentions, off-handedly. “Would you like to discuss?”

“I’m terribly sorry, Julian, but I haven’t really had the time to sit down and think deeply about _character interpretations and literary symbolism_ –though I assure you, I will catch up by the time we meet again next week.”

“It’s alright.” says Julian softly, his gaze wandering all over the table.

_No, this isn’t going too well. I’m getting nowhere._

_Time to call Jadzia in, I suppose._

_But maybe Garak just doesn’t have time for me._

“Do forgive me, but it might be urgent,” apologises Julian as he snatches up his phone and quickly writes a few texts to Jadzia.

**Jadzia. Need backup.**

**Things not going so well?**

**Needs a bit of a push, I think.**

**Meet you at Garak’s shop in fifteen minutes. I’ll think of something.**

“Oh, just look at the time.” Julian glances at his watch. “I’ve been occupying this table for the past half an hour and Quark will probably kick us out soon to make space for the lunchtime crowd.”

“You’re leaving already?” Garak questions. “But we’ve just sat down together five minutes ago!”

“I don’t intend to leave you yet, Garak.” The words slip past Julian’s lips before he’s had the chance to run it over in his mind.

“I suggest that we could return to my shop. We could continue our conversation there.”

Julian nods awkwardly. “That’s a marvellous idea.” _That’s if there’s anything left of our current conversation to continue._

“Wait a minute.” Garak stops short, and peers at Julian’s face so intensely Julian thinks his eyes are going to pop out of his head.

“What?” bursts Julian, bewildered.

Garak grabs a paper napkin and leans over the table.

Julian cocks his head a tad to the left, confused and curious at the same time.

“You left a coffee stain,” Garak starts, “right there.” He gestures to the approximate position of Julian’s mouth with a poised finger. “May I?’

Julian’s first instinct is to refuse to let Garak embarrass him in Quark’s diner by treating him like a little child. But then again, this is the closest he’ll probably get to Garak in quite a while.

He gives a hesitant nod, and Garak swiftly moves to clear the stain off his face. Julian’s heart skips a beat when Garak’s napkin ghosts over his top lip, and he hopes Garak didn’t catch that small gasp that escapes his lips. If he had moved his head just a tad he’d be pressing his nose into the sensitive skin of Garak’s wrist.

But Garak refuses to linger, and pulls away once the job is done.

Quark’s all too relieved to see them leave when Julian approaches him to pay up.

Upon stepping out of the diner, the air turns to a heavy, humid soup that leaves Julian with no choice but to remove his jacket to reveal his white cotton t-shirt underneath.

_In this weather, I’ll soak through,_ he realises, with an air of disgust.

“Is the weather extremely hot or is it just me?” Julian laments, slinging his jacket over his shoulder.

“I’d say it’s you, my friend.” Garak replies, the slightest hint of a sly smile on his face.

Julian stops in his tracks. “Excuse me?”

“You are positively roasting in this heat.” Garak points out. “We should probably hurry back before you melt like a popsicle in the middle of Ninth Avenue.”

“And what will you do, slurp me right up?” asks Julian, spontaneously in the heat of the moment. His expression freezes, and it’s as if he’d mentally slapped himself in the face. “That was terrible. Sorry, Garak.”

“No offense taken.” Garak puts a hand in the small of Julian’s back and nudges him forward. “Although that gave me quite a frightening mental image of a melted puddle of human flesh.” He takes a breath, and changes the subject. “So, how are you and Miss Dax?”

“Miss Dax?”

“You and Miss Dax have been cohabiting for the last two years, am I not right?”

Julian’s eyes go wide in shock. “Oh, no. We’re just roommates. Nothing romantic between us.”

“Then I suppose my suggestion to you last week might have not been the most appropriate.”

“What do they mean, anyway? The purple lilacs? You’re the florist, you tell me.”

“Have you never been curious enough to search it up for yourself?”

“Well, no.” says Julian, pausing on the sidewalk in front of the stairs that lead to Garak’s shop. “I don’t think I’ve ever been that curious about it. But I am now.” He fishes his phone from his pocket.

“Symbolism of lilacs,” he muses, typing it into the search bar.

If Julian’s eyes could go even wider, they would right at this instant.

“The purple ones symbolise the first emotions of love, and the white ones symbolise youthful innocence.” Julian reads off, enunciating every word to ensure he’s processing everything correctly. “But why these flowers for last week? If you thought Jadzia and I had been together for months–“

The possibility hits Julian square in the chest. This simple non-revelation knocks the wind out of him and it feels almost physically hurting–like a pain that clenches around his heart, refusing to let go.

“Garak, I don’t mean to seem rude, or anything,” begins Julian, slowly forcing himself to make eye contact with Garak, “but could I ask you a question that could come off as rather personal?”

“I’m sure nothing you could possibly say right now could offend me, Julian.” Garak replies, taking a step closer. “Carry on.”

Julian takes several anxious breaths before the words finally come out.

“Garak, _are–“_

Julian shakes his head, and tries again. His hands find their way to rest on Garak’s shoulders, where they lie uneasily. The jacket, previously slung across his shoulder, has slipped to the ground, but his mind is on far important things right now.

“Garak, do you happen to be flirting with me? It’s something I’ve been really thinking about for the past few weeks.” presses Julian, his anxious fingers fiddling, pinching the seams that line up with the edge of Garak’s shoulders.

Julian can almost hear his shuddering heart in his ears as Garak replies, composed as usual. “The cards are on the table, the clues uncovered. I’d invite you to make your own conclusion.”

Julian almost rolls his eyes at the comment– _damn, can’t he be more straight-forward about something for once?_ But the smile that spreads across his own face is as genuine as ever and he finds himself sliding his left hand over the flat plain of Garak’s shoulder, past the curve of his neck and finally coming to rest on Garak’s cheek. “May I reveal my conclusion to you, then? Though I have the feeling that we both already know how this is going to end.”

“By all means, Julian,” permits Garak, already moving forward, “I’d be delighted to entertain your deduction of the current situation.”

“And you know how I’m always a man of action,” remarks Julian, basking in Garak’s closeness. Taking a short, shallow intake of breath to ready himself, he leans in and hesitantly leaves a peck on Garak’s lips before pulling back. A short, chaste kiss, but the mere thought of it sends Julian’s heart into a race and leaves him wanting for more.

What stops him for going in for seconds, however, is the brisk, steady pace of Jadzia’s footfalls as she walks down the sidewalk.

“Well.” Jadzia announces, an enthusiastic smile on her face. “I see that lunch has gone a lot better expected for you two.”

“Miss Dax, I’m afraid you’ve hit the nail right on the head.” returns Garak, with the same hearty tone.

Jadzia gives Julian a knowing glance and a smirk as she turns to address Garak directly. “I was just wondering if you were going to be open now. But given that you might be more than a bit busy right now, I was wondering if I should come by a bit later.”

“Work must come before play, I suppose.” Garak shrugs, giving Julian an apologetic look over his shoulder. He faces Jadzia once again, speaking cordially. “I’m at your service.”

“We could still talk later.” offers Julian, reaching out to settle his hand on Garak’s shoulder and pull Garak in his direction. “Dinner at Sisko’s? Vic’s singing tonight.”

“Text me.” Garak gives a quick nod before starting for the stairway, leaving Julian on the sidewalk with a huge grin on his face and his jacket awkwardly pooled around his ankles.

Jadzia follows him up to his shop. “So, I guess the lilacs I told you to recommend to him really worked. See, Garak–I told you that the two of you needed a little push!”

“Admittedly, I would have you to thank.” Garak says, smugly. “What will it be this time?”

Jadzia’s eyes scan the shelves. “It was a bunch of the purple lilacs last time.”

“Well, now that he understands their symbolism, it would be rather fitting for me to present them to him properly this time. Since he couldn’t properly appreciate their meaning after they’d wilted.” Garak reaches for a handful of the flowers, and presents them to Jadzia confidently. He muses over the light, delicate purple shade of the petals. “I think they’ll do just fine, wouldn’t they?” Jadzia considers the notion for a moment. “They’ll be great.” 

 

 


End file.
